


The House-Elf Liberation Full Frontal

by Thistlerose



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-16
Updated: 2010-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is this the moment?  Hell, yeah! This isn't 100% canon-compliant, but it's what I wanted to happen immediately following The Snog.  It bugged me that after Ron's Awesome Suggestion, no one actually went to free the house-elves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House-Elf Liberation Full Frontal

"You're free!" Ron yelled as he and Hermione burst into the kitchens. "Get out, You-Know-Who's coming, save yourselves, you're free!"

At least a dozen pairs of huge, bright eyes blinked up at him.

Ron waved his arms wildly. "Are you mad? The castle's going to be under attack in just a few minutes! Save yourselves! _Go!_"

Some of the house-elves continued to stare, uncomprehending. Most, however, turned back to whatever task Ron and Hermione had interrupted: washing dishes and tablecloths, kneading dough for the breakfast that they clearly did not understand would never be needed.

Ron swore in frustration. Sweat was dripping down his cheeks, there was a painful knot in his side, and there wasn't _time_ for this. You-Know-Who was coming and Harry needed them back.

"Clothes," said Hermione breathlessly.

"Oh, right. Forgot." Ron shoved his wand into a belt loop and cast about for something he could use. There was a basket full of freshly laundered napkins, but he doubted those would be any good. "Hermione, have you got anything in your—"

"No time to look!" She dropped the beaded bag and started to kick off her shoes.

"Er – Hermione?"

She tugged off a sock, balled it up, and tossed it toward the crowd of house-elves, yelling, "Catch!"

It was an order, and a gold-eyed elf jumped forward instinctively to obey. He caught the sock and turned it over in his hands. For a moment, he did not seem to understand. Then, slowly, he raised his head and his eyes gleamed in the firelight. "Nooby is…free!"

"That's right," said Hermione, clutching Ron for balance while she stood on one foot and pulled off her other sock. "You're free. You can stay and fight for us or run away. It doesn't matter. Either way, it's _your_ choice."

"Uh, Hermione," Ron muttered, "it kind of _does_ matter…"

"Help me, Ron. Please." She squeezed his hand and he remembered the sweetness of her lips against his, the heat of her tongue, the way her fingers had gripped his hair.

"Right," he said. "All right. Let's do it. Quickly." He yanked off his shirt.

Some of the house-elves fled from the barrage of clothing, taking refuge under tables and inside cupboards. Most, to Ron's relief and Hermione's obvious delight, took what they were offered. He laughed as one blue-eyed house-elf pulled a sock on over his arm and just stood there admiring it, as if it were an evening glove. He choked when another grabbed his jeans and jammed them over his head like a hat.

"Ron, your wand—" Hermione spluttered.

"Got it here," Ron assured her, raising it so she could see.

The free elves left the kitchens, some to seek shelter beyond the castle walls, some to fight. When they had gone, Hermione clasped her hands and exclaimed, "Oh, Ron! It's so wonderful, I can't even— What?"

She was wearing only her bra and panties and he was staring at her.

"Oh," she said. Then, "_Oh_," as her gaze traveled down his body – naked except for his boxers – and she saw – how could she miss? – the way it was responding.

"Hermione," Ron groaned. There wasn't time for this. They were about to be attacked. Harry needed them.

In the light from the fireplace, Hermione's skin glistened. Her hair, which had come loose from its plait, fell in tangles about her face and shoulders. Her breasts—

Oh, Merlin's bloody _pants_, her breasts—

It seemed to take a lifetime for Hermione to reach behind and unhook her bra, another for her to shrug out of it and drop it to the floor. He wasn't aware of dropping his wand, wasn't aware of moving toward her. But suddenly he was cupping her breasts, his thumbnails grazing the taut nipples, and suddenly she was kissing him, her fingers sliding under the elastic waistband of his boxers.

In some remote corner of his brain, a little voice wailed, _There isn't time! The siege could be starting already! And there might still be house-elves in here!_

Much closer, _much_ more interesting, Hermione was kissing his neck and saying, "You were wonderful! Oh, Ron! Freeing the elves! I didn't even think, but you—"

"Well, I mean, it seemed fair—"

She was practically climbing him. He stumbled and his back hit the wall, but that was all right because it only smarted for a second, and then he could bend his legs, hook his hands under her knees and hoist her up.

After that, Ron's brain decided to go on holiday. He couldn't think. He was just a person-shaped bundle of nerves that had caught fire. He was excruciating heat, and he needed more heat, her heat. He was, he was—

Entirely hers as she fisted his hair and, with her other hand, jerked his boxers down, freeing his erection. She wriggled against him, and his world almost exploded, but no, he did have some control after all, just enough to turn them so that her back was against the wall, and he could pull her panties down and spread her, could learn this ridge, this nub, learn the sound she made, the way her whole body shuddered when his fingers moved inside her.

She clung to him. "Now – Ron – please, I need—"

It should have been a relief, joining his throbbing heat to hers, but it wasn't, so he pulled back and thrust in again, and again, and again. There was something slick, slippery, a smell, her whimpers, nails raking his shoulders.

Then the torrent.

He staggered, still clutching her to him, and they collapsed together.

As the room wobbled dizzyingly around them, Ron whispered something to Hermione. She replied raggedly, "I love spew too. I mean, the Society—"

"No, that's not what I said, I—"

But he hadn't the energy to go on. And that was bad because he was fairly certain that there was someplace they ought to be now, something important that they ought to be doing.

But her head lolled against his chest and her lips pressed the skin over his heart and he was quite sure that he was exactly where he ought to be.

7/27/07


End file.
